Slavers
by 082 Martian Scout
Summary: It's not just an illegal slave trade operation, it's a brainwashing conspiracy. Story to be continued. Rated T now, but may change to rated M. Rated for future language, violence, and sexual themes. R&R.
1. Proposition

_Star Wars: the Clone Wars fanfic3 -_

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**Slavers**

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**Time: 25 BBY Location: Outer Rim, Tatooine**

Deep within the Western Dune Sea, all of the music of the party in Jabba's Palace boomed loudly as the Hutt's subjects socialized with each other, laughed at dirty jokes that were often cracked, and drank the delicious alcohol that made them ever so intoxicated. Yes, Jabba was a proud man - Hutt - and it brought pleasure to him as the criminals, bounty hunters, drug dealers, etc. enjoyed themselves at his party, and to his desire, his reputation will spread further across the galaxy.

Still, although he appeared to have everything he wanted in his base of operations, a comfortable throne with several and many subjects and admirers, he couldn't help but feel something was missing. It had something to do with the entertainment, of course there wasn't a problem, the band were the finest all around, without doubt truly. But then he had it, there were no dancers in his company, no one to move or rotate seductively in front of him. No slaves.

It was true, without any of his slave women before him - to dance for him, to entertain him - this reception, and many others to come, won't be as enjoinable as before. Why was it that there was never a slaver around when he wanted to talk with one, to strike some deal and purchase a slave, and a good and very talented one at that? But heaven's light doesn't look like it will shine upon him for luck. Not likely today, anyway.

However, three new figures appeared, three whom were uninvited strangers to his party. One was a mysterious man, dressed in all black, black boots, bodysuit, and even the gasmask was dark. The only thing he could call this stranger was a "silhouette."

The second stranger, this one armed with a Slavemaster carbine, was a Trandoshan in dark red armor, a medal utility belt, and wearing a Wookiee's pelt on his back - a trophy, perhaps?

The third was wearing a cloak, a dark, black cloak that shielded the body - as well as a long hood that hid the face in shadow - from the light above. But he could see a little pit of the stranger's face under the veil of shadow, a feminine face with smooth crimson cheeks, light pink skin, luscious, dark lips - and as far as he could tell, the stranger was a woman.

Little by little, the main audience chamber ceased with the loud music and fell silent, as Jabba's linguist droid took a stand beside the Hutt, and prepared to translate. {Who are you people, and what do you want?} Jabba asked, as his droid repeated his question in English to them.

"Greetings Powerful and Mighty Jabba Desilijic Tiure," the silhouette greeted, bowing to the crime lord in modesty and respect, "It is an honor to finally meet you in person - er, Hutt. I am Morgan Remnant."

{Whatever business you wish to bargain with me, it would be best if you get it over with. You are coming in the middle of a party} the Hutt told him, as his droid translated, {Who are you people anyway... bounty hunters?- smugglers?-}

"Actually, who we are is precisely the business I'm confident you will be thrilled to work with. We are slavers" - he said, as he gently pushed the cloaked woman forward a little into the light - "and we would like to make a proposition."

He pulled the hood off to reveal the woman's face into the light, it was a human - no, it was a Zeltron - with black hair that hung to the level of her eyes, a smooth and perfectly shaped face, truly without question a beautiful creature he had seen. But her eyes seemed oddly blank, just two green orbs, pupils shrunk, as she stared perfectly forward. There was no fear or disgust look on her face, much like most women do whenever they as much glanced at him, instead she held a mindless, helpless stare, and it seemed she didn't take a notice to anything in front of her. Including him.

"This fine, young woman is named Nora," the slaver leader explained, "she was quite a spitfire, a very fiesty vixen. She has the body, the flexibility, and the specialty of a dancer, and she is fine company, despite the modifications made."

{What "modifications"? What do you mean?}

"It's not like I'm saying she's a droid - well, maybe she seems so now - but what I mean is that before, young Nora here was a little cocky, possessive, and searched her own independent gain over ours. Fortunately, we 'fixed' that problem, a few sessions of reprogramming the girl and we have progressed successfully."

Jabba glanced at the Zeltron, who continued to stare aimlessly. {You brainwashed her?}

"If you mean stealing her mind and reprogramming it, they yes. With a well placed set of hypnogazers, we transformed her, made her more obedient, subservient, pleasurable, and entertaining... whether at parties, or in privacy. We let the good qualities thrive while we eliminate the undesirables; such as attitude, resistance, free will, everything unnecessary for a slave."

Jabba hesitated, but he had a good point, slaves didn't need any of those customs, they didn't even need to think, all they need to know how to do is obey. This woman - a Zeltron, which is a species that isn't a target of slavery - had been brainwashed to be a complete and total slave, which seemed like a good thing, but what did these slavers teach her when they erased her mind?

{Slave. Nora, was it? What talents do you possess?} He asked.

The Zeltron murmured, speaking words of some type. But he couldn't decipher, and neither, apparently, could his translator droid. She was speaking in complete gibberish as far as anyone could tell.

Her mumbling came to an end when Remnant placed a hand over her mouth, silencing her. "I'm afraid she can't answer any questions, in the brainwashing procedure, her mind was left a complete blank with only a few subconscious programs, and her ability to speak was erased. We're trying to see if we can fix that, and actually, this is why we've come to you."

{And what part of this makes me involved with your slave trade?}

"Well, given the reputation of your 'kindness' we believe you can be an excellent support." Remnant explained, "What we are asking from you is some money to fund our business and advance our technology to make things possible. What we need is a total of fifty thousand credits to get things started, for a good, suitable ship to get us around the galaxy, and the slavers and technicians will not come in too cheap. But money isn't a problem for you, is it?"

Jabba hesitated, normally he would be outraged but such a large request for money for such small things, but this business these slavers were trying to build didn't sound small at all. Still, there was something he wanted to know, such as why they brought him an example of their progress.

{What you have in mind doesn't sound cheap to me, and providing support should come as a two-way street. If I should give you the credits you seek to support yourselves with, what will be in it for me?} The Hutt asked, as his linguist droid translated for him.

"Other than being known and remembered as the great crime lord responsible for a new generation of slaves in the galaxy..." - he told him, specifically - "...we will give you the gift of 'first pick' in a slave bargain. Of course, it may take a few years before we can collect and provide a proper selection to choose from, so it may take time but never worry, we will honor our agreement.

"I understand that you have a taste for a slave companion, a subject in your affections, and so we will let you select first out of the collection, which ever one you will want. We know how much you love to own and control. In fact, as a token of our word and honor of the bargain, we present you with gift - the first of the brainwashed slaves, here." - He turned to Nora, who was still staring without a purpose.

Jabba observed this gift, a new slave girl in his wake. For a mutual moment, he was thankful to whatever granted his wish so quickly afterward, but never did he expect his new personal slave to be a Zeltron, a non-targeted humanoid in slavery, and an very attractive one at that. Plus with the "first pick" in their progress, it was a sweet deal, the only thing he would need to tolerate was the patience he would have to endorse for them to return and keep their deal. No matter, this Nora slave will be plenty of company for the time being.

"Perhaps a sample of the future will help you decide," Remnant suggested, "I trust you will not be disappointed." The slaver ushered the Trandoshan and everyone else to step aside, giving Nora enough room as she simply stood mindlessly. Jabba kept himself silent and patient as he awaited this unexpected but hopefully appreciated entertainment. The silhouette and snapped his fingers, "Begin Dance program, mode: strip tease," he snapped, as Nora immediately stood straighter.

The Zeltron slave's arms rose above her head connected with each other, as she shook and twirled her body, the dark cloak waving on her figure like a flag until her hands lowered and crawled to the strap. Her fingers fiddled with it, loosened it, and finally untied it and pulled it open.

As the cloak fell to the floor, everyone became transfixed by the bewitching sight, for she now danced, twirled and rotated in an new revealing attire. Skin tight clothing was what it was, a colorful bikini top covered her torso with a loose loincloth around her hips, it didn't disturb - in fact it actually improved - her dancing, as she swayed left and right.

Jabba watched stupefied as her hands roamed her body, lying one on her hip and another on her breast, her movements almost hypnotic to everyone who made up the main chamber's audience. It wasn't a surprise all that much, Zeltron where made for sexuality and pleasure, as in another's opinion, although they were real snobs if you get to know them, this brainwashed slave - Nora - was better than a free will Zeltron. Hell, people were suppose to be captivated by Zeltron beauty.

The slave wrapped her arms around herself, thumbs fiddling with her bra straps, as their curled underneath and slid them off her shoulders -

"Cease," Remnant ordered, as Nora froze in place, motionless, and in a way, the show had just been paused as soon as it got to the juicy part. And that really annoyed Jabba. "So, my friend, do we have a deal?"

Jabba pondered for a moment, seeing them just showing up at his palace with an absolutely attractive slave dancer being given away so easily, he could simply send his guards out to dispose of them keep the slave, without spending a single credit. However, what they were offering him was very special indeed, to select among many other slaves that these slavers were offering him in exchange for the money to make it happen. It seemed like good business, and a good and fair deal.

The Hutt crime lord gave his answer to the droid, who translated it and said, "The Mighty Jabba as agreed to the arrangement."

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**To let you know, this is a to be continued story. In the future, I'm gonna get to it, when I have an actually story plot conflict for it. At the moment, I just have the idea of slavers, when I return to think about it, I'll try to involve Clone Wars characters, and probably some OCs too. Anyways, if anyone is interested in this idea, please review and tell me. That way, when I get back to thinking about this story, I'll have some modivation. Deal?**

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**...**


	2. Crime Wars

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_Star Wars: the Clone Wars fanfic3_ -

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**Slavers**

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**Time: 22 BBY Location: Core Worlds, Coruscant**

A great public disturbance was active today, as blasterfire and explosions broke out so loud that everyone in the city local area hid themselves away within their homes and apartments to allow the Grand Army of the Republic settle the situation.

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, stood his ground in the front line - a local street - along side the clone troopers, as several dodged and returned fire with the many blaster bolts that flew back and forth, between them and the assailing militia of criminals and gangsters that started this little gunfight.

- _Violence is a virus, it spreads out through the air; infecting everything, every man and woman everywhere  
So many deaths and casualties, but they don't care; they go ahead and slaughter it all, damn, nobody said life was fair _-

On the front line set between both sides, where untold numbers of plasma bolts - blue and orange - raced past each other in an almost beautiful display of fireworks. It might have been almost enjoyable, if not for the true purpose. He twirled and swung his saber, as the bright blue blade deflected several bolts away.

Although it was times like this that may seem like a game to him, whereas he got the thrill of a fight; the rush of adrenaline in his blood and the deafening explosions that ignited all around, he couldn't help but feel some concern. It wasn't for his Master - Obi-Wan Kenobi - or his clone captain - CC-7567 "Rex", each individually could handle themselves in this conflict.

It was his Padawan, Ahsoka Tano, that had him worried, she was on another street, taking these thugs from a different angle, in attempt to flank them and put an end to this gang war. However, he wasn't afraid that she could get hurt or seriously injured or anything like that, he was worried she might finally get a better score than him.

- _All the days are all the same... it's all one big game; whereas we're living days with people that never, ever seem to change_ -

While he swung his saber, deflecting orange plasma bolts back to the gangsters, he merely wondered how and where they acquired all of these weapons and armaments in a black market, here on Coruscant - and where able to smuggle, deal, and prepare other awaiting criminals for a gunfight - without anyone knowing. Some would think Republic spies, or even Law Enforcement, would have at least seen something suspicious.

It was only until now that they realized this large gang of criminals - called the "Warhawks" - had transformed their command post in Coruscant into a hidden armory. That was quite clever of them, almost as if they had planned this whole battle to occur, however, what they weren't counting on was that they were about to lose this fight.

However, from a distance across the battlefield, he spotted someone - a tall Abyssin - armed with a Milkor multiple grenade launcher, and marching over to their stand. The launcher was obviously a dangerous weapon, one that made anyone question how _that_was successfully smuggled, if it could hurl a grenade far enough to reach their front line, they could probably break through it, and even advance. That was something they couldn't afford to let happen.

He thought about making a move forward, to get close enough to stop them, but it would have been a futile gesture - and it was already a losing battle. If he ordered his troops to move forward, they would surely be wiped out easily by that grenade launcher, and if they stayed where they were, they wouldn't be able to hold the line. They were in trouble.

Soon, the Abyssin stood right at the line, the launcher raised, pointing high in range to where the projectile would surely hit its target, and as soon as the alien fired a grenade, he was caught off guard and without a plan.

"Troopers! Take cover!" Anakin ordered, as he fell back and hid himself behind a barricade, as he sat next to a few other troopers. As the grenade made its landing upon the surface, several clones were not so lucky to escape in time, for the explosion sent several white-armor flying through the air, along with a few body parts - if one dared to look at what's left.

Temporarily deafened by the explosion, he opened his eyes to find several clones lying on the ground, some dead and some seriously injured, as they lied in two parts or more. Only a few remaining troopers had managed to dodge the blast, but they were only fortunate, and the Abyssin still had its launcher.

"Anakin..." called his name from his wrist comm., which he had managed to hear, "Anakin, do you copy? I heard a loud explosion coming from your squad, is there a problem?"

"Well, they have a grenade launcher, and I just lost a lot of men after the first shot," he glanced back at the Abyssin, "and it looks like they're preparing for another blast!"

"I'm contanting your Padawan and Captain Rex, they'll have to abandon their lines to help your squad."

"No! I got this covered, Master, just give me a little more time." He replied.

"This isn't the time to argue, you need reinforcements or they'll blow right through you!"

Another grenade struck, and another explosion emitted, as a clone trooper was blown back. He landed right in front of him, motionless, and to make things worst, the loud explosion caused a link interruption in his wrist comm. Static was all he could hear now.

That seemed like the end of it, now. Game over. The Warhawks now had the upper hand, a better weapon, and they were going to blow right through them. For the first time, he felt as if the battle was lost.

However, the sound of a reckless driver operating a vehicle caught his attention, as he glanced up, only to spot ship - a _Gamma_-class assault shuttle - speeding and lowering at an almost too dangerous rate of crashing. As it lowered roughly, its turbolaser cannons extracted and fired down upon the advancing thugs that dared to pursue. It all soon came to an end as the ship finally landed on the ground.

The side hatch of the vehicle opened up as a group of men, all attired in light armored jumpsuits and armed with firearm weapons, hoped out and turned their aim to the Warhawks. A large, bursting explosion of M16 and M249 gunfire - and grenades - was heard as the line of assailing soldiers shot them all down. One individual man - a Pantoran wearing a Blast vest and helmet - released a spray of bullets onto the Abyssin, as the tall alien dropped to the ground, dead.

Anakin took advantage of this short time to catch his breath, seeing some momentary relief. He looked back on the few remaining clone troopers of his squad, while their dead brethren covered most of the ground. He glanced up to see the Pandoran mercenary strolling in his direction, keeping his weapon - an old-fashioned Thompson submachine gun - firm in his grip.

He recollected himself to his feet, his saber withdrawn but still firm in his hand, as the legionnaire stopped right in front him, the Tommy gun propped on his shoulder. "Who are you?"

The stranger smirked, "We're the goodwill committee," he said, it sounded something like a joke. "The name's Wilson. You boys look like you could use a hand."

"Well, we had everything under control, but a few spare hands couldn't do any harm, right?" Anakin returned, with his same sense of smart alec humor.

"Just watch us!" The mercenary replied, smiling as he turned to face the others, "Alright Team, we've clear most of this street, now let's finish the fight! Adams, Kay, you're both with me. Pierce, Jenkins and Boomer - you three handle the south street. Fitz, Patterson and Fray - the east street. Let's move!"

He watched as the group of militia legionnaires - soldiers of fortune - scattered and separated into smaller groups, at the same time, their assault shuttle hummed to life, rose of the ground, and flew off, off to aid others in this crime war perhaps. Although such a thing seemed very unlikely, the Jedi of the Republic had a new team of allies.

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**Just to remind you all, I don't have an exact conflict and plot to this story, I know it involves slavers - along with mind control, brainwashing(all of that junk) - and it will have the Merc Team of all your favorite OCs from Worm Wars, so I'll say it'll be quite entertaining for you all. **

**BTW, to let you all know, I will bring the Merc Team in a future story I have planned, something special - Ahsoka's Jedi Trials, but before I get there, I am excited to let you all know that I will be working on the LONG AWAITED SEQUEL of WORM WARS.**

**It will be difficult to juggle with all these fanfics, such as this one "Slavers" and my current ones - Conspiracy, Parasite, and Outcast - so you'll have to know that I might not work on this story for a while in the process. But Worm Wars 2 (WW2) will be worked on. They's gonna be a lot of action between this story and WW2, so you'd better hold onto your seats and get ready, it's gonna be a rough ride!**

**Disclaimer: These are real modern firearm weapons - Milkor MGL (multiple grenade launcher), M16 assault rifle, M249 light machinegun**

**- Also, about the lyrics at the beginning of the chapter, I was listening to some music and had some made up rhymes in my head, so I decided to sing it. If you enjoyed, then I'm glad you did. But if you expect me to sing songs all throughout the story... I pity you, because I don't sing. **

**Hope you liked the chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

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_Star Wars: the Clone Wars fanfic3_ -

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**Slavers**

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**Time: 22 BBY Location: Core Worlds, Coruscant**

As blasterfire flew over head, followed by the explosion that nearly made him go deaf, Obi-Wan Kenobi and his clone troops fell back to a retreat, overrun by the militia of Warhawks that kept advancing. He swung his blade in circular motion, while he deflected and dodged as many orange bolts of plasma as he could, at the same time backing up further and further, while Clone Commander Cody followed suit and provided covering fire.

It was suppose to be a simple task, just take care of a few hooligans who decided to start a little strife in Coruscant's streets, however, what he didn't expect was that this would actually turn out to be a gang war. One thing's for sure, it wouldn't be possible for any negotiation here, especially after they've already started shooting with dangerous force.

"General Kenobi, they've got us outnumbered! We should retreat!" Cody called, keeping his DC-15S leveled and firing.

Suddenly, a loud _boom!_ emitted, coming from the other street, where Anakin's squad was. "I couldn't agree more!" He replied, yelling in order to be heard as he clicked his wrist comm., "Anakin... Anakin, do you copy? I heard a loud explosion coming from your squad, is there a problem?"

"Well, they have a grenade launcher, and I just lost a lot of men after the first shot, and it looks like they're preparing for another blast!"

Obi-Wan didn't like the sound of that, if they had a grenade launcher, then he was going to need more help then his own squad did. "I'm contanting your Padawan and Captain Rex, they'll have to abandon their lines to help your squad."

"No! I got this covered, Master, just give me a little more time." He heard his apprentice reply, he shook his head visibly.

"This isn't the time to argue, you need reinforcements or they'll blow right through you!"

Abruptly, he heard another explosion that came from - not only the echoing streets - the background sound of his wrist comm. He tapped the device and tried for his channel again, but only static was all he could hear.

"Anakin? Anakin!" He called repeatedly, but no answer came. "Blast! - Captain Rex, do you copy?"

"Yes sir, go ahead!" he heard the clone captain's voice reply.

"Captain; tell Ahsoka that General Skywalker needs immediate assistance! Tell them that they need to-"

Before he could finish that order, another loud explosion overwhelmed his own voice, as well as blew Obi-Wan, and Cody off their feet. He propped himself up and glanced a his wirst comm., it had been distroyed due to the explosion. He looked to his clone commander, lying on the ground with his arm hanging in a unusual way, he didn't need to be a medic to know that his arm was broken, he was fortunate enough to be alive.

He looked all around the rubble that surrounded them, finding several fires and burning bodies of clone troopers, and then he came across his lightsaber, which had fallen out of his hand when the explosion occured. It seemed like a joke now, for years he had told his own apprentice not to lose his lightsaber, and now today his would occasionally fall out of his grip. He reached for the saber.

"Hold it right there, Jedi!" Ordered a gruff voice, he glanced up to find a Weequay, along with two other Warhawks behind him, blaster rifles in there hands, pointed directly at him.

Obi-Wan carefully withdrew his hand, feeling some moderate defeat now imminent as they drew closer. Would they take them prisoner? Probably not - they wouldn't have a use for a clone commander, and if they had the courage to stand up against a Jedi, then they'd probably prove a point to the Republic by killing him now.

They all locked aimed with him and Cody, and he braced himself for when it comes.

They were about shoot when a sudden whistling call took their attention, he looked in that same direction to find two odd-looking soldiers, both armed with - what it appeared to be - M16 assault rifles with under-barrel attachments. one of them was masked by the other's face was easy to describe; a human with two wild eyes, a blond goatee, and a smug grin.

"Howdy..." the soldier greeted, before lifting his rifle and activating the under-barrel shotgun system. The blast from the shotgun hit the Weequay in the chest, and blew him off the ground. His two accomplices redirected their weapons to them, but the other stranger-legionnaire unleashed a spray of bullets before they could pull their own triggers.

With the three pursuers eliminated, the two legionnaires took their places and fired down upon the other advancing Warhawks. While one provided some cover fire, the unmasked soldier bent down and helped Obi-Wan to his feet. He watched as Cody sluggishly coped with him, getting up limply to his feet, he could sense more than just a broken arm, perhaps a few broken ribs too.

As the four of them hid behind the bunker, the clone commander was gently propped up against it, as the mask-helmeted soldier knelt down and pulled the clone's own helmet off. "Sorry if we're crash'n the party," the other legionnaire said, "but it looks like ya could use'a hand."

"Well, they've got heavy arms at their disposal," he replied as he called his saber back through the Force, yelling in order to be heard, "but if you can manage, be my guest!"

"Heavy duty? No problem!" He said, reaching for his belt and pulling out a weapon about the same size and shape of a DC-15S, "Master Jedi, meet Mr. China Lake Grenade Launcher!"

Without warning, he raised the firearm into the air, in the direction of the upcoming Warhawks, and squeezed the trigger. A small projectile, about the same size of a baseball, was hurled across the battlefield, and with his sharp eyes, he spotted it as it landed in the midst of gang members, and just like that, a large explosion sent them flying through the air.

"Impressive work, soldier," Obi-Wan said, surprised that such a small weapon could do _that_.

"Thanks, but call me Fitz! And yu can call my friend d'ere Patterson," He suggested, just as another explosion emitted behind. He glanced back to the front line of Warhawks, dozens of them holding their place, and one specifically holding a grenade launcher. "Yee doggies, now it's a real party!" He said, cheerfully as he leaped back.

Obi-Wan followed him and helped the other soldier - Patterson - escort the slightly injured Cody out of the open. As they continued to retreat further out of firing range. "I don't suppose you have a plan B for those gunmen, by any chance?"

"Actually, it just so happ'ns I dang well do," he smiled, lifting his arm as he tapped his wrist comm., "Hey Fray, light us some fireworks, would ya?"

"Understood." Replied a more serious and stern voice through the transmission of the comlink.

Obi-Wan watched, stupefied, as several arrows of fire rained from above - of some unknown source - and showered onto the militia of advancing Warhawks. They all yelped and panicked, running out of their formation, as each missile landed on the ground and exploded, sending trios of up of gangsters into the air. Over - at the very least - a dozen arrows pierced and sent several Warhawks flying, until the last one blew the last one to bits.

"Well," he said, still a little dumbstruck, "I guess that secures the area. Men, advance and move out," he ordered, turning to the mercenary, Fitz, "and thank you for the assistance."

"Any time," he replied with that same smug grin. Obi-Wan watched him with curiosity and glanced back to Cody and the other mercenary, Patterson.

"Hey Merc!" Cody called, as Patterson stopped and turned to him, beginning to unseal his helmet. "Thanks for the help."

The legionnaire pulled off the masking helmet and immediately, the clone's expression matched Obi-Wan's surprised look, not only did the merc appear to be a Twi'lek, Patterson was actually a woman. She brushed a green lekku out of her face and smiled at the slightly stupefied clone, "Like my buddy Fitz said," she told him, punching him gently on the shoulder, "any time."

While the clone battalion sprinted past the two mystery mercs, both Obi-Wan and Cody gave them curious looks. Both wondering just in the whole galaxy these people were.

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**To Lefty Blondy: Well, I've only just begun, so hold onto your seat, something big's on its way.**

**To hoysterrule123: Easy! Try and relax, I know it must be pretty awesome - two stories and all, but if you don't take it easy, you might be too tired to look at the computer screen.**

**To ****KittyCaterpillar: Thanks, but I still don't see an interest in singing.**

**To Darth Sith'ari: Perhaps, possibly, it might even turn into an erotica... maybe.**


	4. Chapter 4

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_Star Wars: the Clone Wars fanfic3_ -

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**Slavers**

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**Year: 22 BBY Location: Core Worlds, Coruscant**

Ahsoka Tano flipped back, carefully balancing herself as she swung her saber and blocked the approaching blasterfire. Not to far behind her, Captain Rex - armed with his duel pistols - fired back and held the squad behind at their firing line, providing some cover fire for the young Padawan out on the battlefield.

"Ahsoka!" Rex called, ducking a explosion of dust flew past overhead, "I've just got word from General Kenobi - General Skywalker needs our help!"

The news shocked her, but was also actually kind of ammusing. Master Skywalker needed help? - and she was the one whom was asked to depart and save him? It all seemed so funny, she had forgotten to laugh.

She ducked and deflected a bolt before turning around, "You and the squad go ahead, I'll take it from here!"

"By yourself, ma'am?"

"That's an order Rex, now move it!" She commanded, as she sprinted further towards the middle of the rubble. Behind her, Rex and several of the squad hurried out of there and headed to Anakin's field of fire.

Now practically on her own - save for a few clone troopers at the bunker, Ahsoka got ahead of herself and made her stand too far in the middle of the battlefield. All of the Warhawks' fire was concentrated on her, and it was all showering heavy on her. She deflected as much as she could, as fast as she could, but the longer she kept it going, the more tired she felt herself become.

Abruptly, a bolt punched the side of her knee, as she yelped in pain and feel to a knell. She kept her saber raised, but a well-shot blasted the green blade of light straight out of her hand - and in the process - threw her off balance as she dropped. Now lying on her back, exhausted with sore muscles to match, as she breathed deeply.

"I got the Jedi!" One of them said, "Let's finish 'em off!"

_Whhirrrpp_!

The sound of whistling steel caught her eardrums as she propped herself up, she watched as one man instantly went limp and dropped to the ground, while a few of his comrades eyed him suspiciously.

_Whhirrrpp_! _Whhirrrpp_!

Ahsoka watched - dumbstruck - as two more fell at the mysterious sound, she tried to recollect to her feet, just as more and more Warhawks charged, but the blaster wound was still sizzling lightly, she was still immobilized. She called her lightsaber back to her hand, her thumb resting on the switch, but before she could light it, some odd mercenary ran past her.

She studied him, he was a human - with brown-skin - from the angle she could see, and with the assault rifle he was carrying, he was fast... _scary_ fast. He practically leaped out at those Warhawks, kicked and fired them down, definitely something that a clone trooper would acknowledge.

Soon, she saw another mercenary, another human with some type of goggles over his eyes and around his head, while he carried a modified M61 Vulcan minigun, in some way attached to the system of technology he was carrying. As he fired, not only was it loud - but dozens of targets were easily cleared in seconds.

Whoever these people were, they certainly knew how to fight in a gang war. That was easily noticed, and she could gratefully respect that.

However, while she remained kneeling, a surviving Warhawk crawled to his feet and limped to her, a back-up blaster pistol now in his hand. He eyed her, as she glanced back, and pointed the weapon at her head, "So long, Jedi."

_Whhirrrpp_!

Before he could even squeeze the trigger, Ahsoka was sure she just saw a small bullet flew through his head, and a few drops of blood now squirted from the small wound. She watched as the pursur dropped the pistol and fell to the ground, dead, and all she could do was remain there, dumbstruck.

Suddenly, she turned her head to find a boy - human - sprint over and stop right in front of her, a SR-25 sniper rifle in his hand. He took a spot next to her and knelt down, "Are you alright?" He asked, just before she ignited her saber.

"Back off!" She warned, keeping the green blade of light between him and this stranger, ready to slice off the first finger he would dare touch her with.

"No, no... you've got it wrong, I'm on your side," he assured her, setting the sniper rifle gently on the ground to prove his word, "Just let me have a look at that wound, I only want to help."

She hesitated as she further studied this boy - he looked about a year or two older than she was, with mud-brown hair, but those green eyes of his didn't lie, they held consideration, concern, and compassion, he was telling the truth.

Ahsoka took whatever risk necessary and withdrew her saber, letting him get within two-feet of her, as he leaned closer to examine her knee. "Oh boy, that looks pretty deep, we're gonna need a medic on this one," he said, leaning back up as he tapped his wrist comm., "_Crusader_. April, do you read?"

"Affirmative," replied a female voice, "I read you loud and clear."

"April, I've got a girl here, injured, I need Crowe here, Asap. Report at the east street, sector four-seven D."

"Roger, on my way," and the transmission ended.

"It's okay, I've gotta doctor on the way," the boy said, "just wait for a minute, the ship will be here."

Ahsoka eyed him curiously, "Why are you helping?"

"You've been shot, I can't just keep going knowing someone's been wounded when I know I can at least spare a hand," he replied, but not the answer to her question.

"No, I mean why are you helping us - with this gang war and all?" She asked, "It's none of your business, so why get involved?"

"Well, someone of citizenship has to at show that they could help assist society through military means," he explained, "or at least, that's what the Boss says."

"The 'Boss'?"

"Yeah, Wilson, he's leading this job," the boy told her. She gave him a long, observing look, and then smiled.

"What's your name?"

"Issac - Issac Boomer," he said, and pointed to the other two mercenaries, "That's Pierce and Jenkins over there."

"Shouldn't you be helping them with the criminals?"

"Maybe, but considering you're my patient at the moment, I think they can handle things without me. First thing's first with you," he said, "I've got to get you to the ship when it shows."

As if he had just spoke the magic word, a shuttle loomed and hovered over the ground, and began to lower like a silent train making its routes, until it finally came to a stop upon the pavement, right beside their locations.

The young man - Boomer - stood up and offered her a hand, "Shall we?"

Ahsoka smiled, actually charmed by this merc/gentleman, and took his hand in hers, allowing him to pull her up and "escort" her over to the ship.

* * *

**To KittyCaterpillar: Alright, thanx for the review! It makes a bright day brighter.**

**To Darth Sith'ari: At first, it was just to introduce the merc team - or the Star Wars OC A-Team, but I guess it could be involved with the slavers.**

**To Lefty Blondy: That's cool, thanx, I'm actually unsure if I can work on both WW2 and Slavers at the same time, so I'll mostly work on WW2, since I've got a full story plot figured out for it first. **

**To hoysterrule123: I've already explained it, as you can see, it does in deed look like Ahsoka will fancy Boomer, just was the fans ordered.**

**To Artemis zodiac: Yeah, , maybe, probably, why do you ask?**

**...**


	5. Chapter 5

_Star Wars: the Clone Wars -_

* * *

**Slavers**

* * *

Thirty minutes ago the streets were plagued with gunfire and explosions and verbal cursing, but now - as Anakin strolled down the street, his lit saber at his guard, with three of the strangers - it was quiet, both suspiciously and disturbingly quiet. Puzzled, he glanced over to Sergeant Wilson and the legionnaires, and looked back down the frayed street, confused of where this sudden absence of hostile gangsters came from.

It seemed likely they've given up and retreated, that would be the first common suggestion anyone would point out, but anyone smart would come to a better, more thought out idea - they were hiding, hiding and waiting to strike at the least suspecting second.

"Okay, it got too quiet too fast," one of Wilson's marines said, the male human, "where the hell'd they go?"

"Adams, Shut it and keep your eyes open," the Sergeant said, "they're probably waiting to bring out the big guns. They've got their hands on a grenade launcher, I don't even wanna know what else they've got."

"You're quite serious on the battle field for a mercenary, Sergeant Wilson," Anakin told him.

"Shouldn't you be, Jedi?" He shot back, "The situation where a bunch of crazies got their hands on dangerous, automatic firearms and are practically using them out in public isn't something to get cozy from. People are at stake."

As the four of them slowly and cautious meandered down the street, neither of them suspected the small group of snipers looming on a high point, observing them as they began to set up a sniper rifle system. Resting its bipod on the railing and adjusting the scope, the sniper man positioned the weapon's butt to his shoulder and carefully took aim.

"First off; it's not 'Jedi', it's Skywalker - Anakin Skywalker. Second; why do you even care for this gang war, Wilson?" Anakin asked, "Why do you care about all these innocent people and the Republic?"

"We only care for the innocents, we made it our goal to protect them, any time and any where we can. We didn't show up to back you up in this gang war, we only showed up to end it, because clearly the Republic can't do a damn thing for itself."

"Well, you're doing a noble thing of at least helping out the peacekeepers clear Warhawks off the street."

"Yeah, but too bad. Because we're not helping 'peacekeepers', we're saving Jedi' asses from getting blown to bits of shit," Wilson snapped, "don't go speaking of you and your little church being the 'source of peace,' because you people were involved in more battles and wars than you were in peace meetings. Clear?"

Anakin gave him a long, sceptical look, perhaps his remark to the Jedi Order might seem a little uncalled for and out of line, but after giving it a quick thought, Wilson might be right. Sure enough, during the Clone Wars, the Order had been operating like a military, sending young Jedi into battles even before they are knighted - much like his Padawan Ahsoka, and having weapons being manufactured and constructed. Heck, even _he_would agree with this merc, but regardless, he thought he was doing the right thing, even if it wasn't the "peaceful" method.

Without warning, a bird swiftly flew by the group, and the woman - the Arkanian - traced its flight and glanced up to the other direction, up on the balcony, where a group of snipers resided. In a flash, she swiftly loaded an arrow onto her old-fashioned bow, took quick and precise aim, and released.

The arrow raced through the air and ran right through the sniper's head, right between the eyes, as he slumped on the railing, the sniper rifle falling to the ground. As the sound of the firearm hitting the pavement caught their attention, Wilson pointed and Adams followed his finger, lifted his M16 assault rifle, and fired its M203 under-barrel grenade launcher. The small projectile flew up to the balcony and exploded, sending the gangsters soaring out of their hiding spot.

As soon as they hit the street, the Merc-Sergeant glanced to the Arkanian, "Good call, Kay." He congratulated, as she simply nodded, her facial expression not changing by a twitch.

"How'd you see that coming?" Anakin asked, watching as the bird lowered and landed upon her outstretched finger.

"The little bird told me," she replied, her voice soft and clear. The bird flew off at the sign of upcoming trouble precisely as she turned her attention to that of behind him.

He spun around, finding Captain Rex and the rest of his platoon - Ahsoka's platoon. "Rex? What are you doing here, where's Ahsoka?"

"She stayed behind, General," he answered, "to take care of the line of fire."

"By herself?"

"It was on her orders, sir. She told us to break off and assist you." He began, "I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't worry about it Rex, you're just following orders. It's Ahsoka I'm more worried about," Anakin said, lifting up his wrist to tap his com link. "Ahsoka, can you hear me?"

No reply came, only the sound of static could be heard. _Blast_, he thought, the explosion must have had a more serious effect than he anticipated, communications with Obi-Wan had been interrupted, and now he guessed he couldn't contact anyone.

"I can't get a signal," he admitted, "we need to go check on her..."

"Hold on, Walker," the Merc-Sergeant stopped him before he could make another step, tapping his own com link. "Jenkins, you hear me? I want a report."

"Roger sir, the Warhawks are starting to back off. Pierce and I have them on the run, we're pushing them towards their current stronghold."

"What about Boomer?"

"He stayed behind to help a downed Jedi with a wounded knee, he called the ship to the surface for further aid. You want us to retreat and get him."

"No," Wilson refused, "Boomer can handle this one solo, the Jedi's in good hands. Continue pursuing the gangsters back to their lair, we'll be meeting up with you momentarily."

"Roger, moving out." And the wrist comm. switched off.

The Merc-Sergeant turned his attention back to Anakin, "Don't worry about thing, Jedi. Your friend's in Boomer's care, you can trust him."

"Uh... thanks," he replied, turning away from the mercenary, back to Rex and the platoon. "Captain Rex, status report. You all ready to go?"

"Affirmative sir," the clone replied, glancing curiously at Wilson and the other two strangers, "uh... who are these guys?"

"Soldiers of fortune, local mercenaries, haven't exactly gotten an actually name on them. I'll get to them about it later, for now let's just say they're on our side." Anakin suggested, "Now, I repeat, are you all ready to go?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Wilson," he turned, "Are you-?" He stopped, watching as the Merc-Sergeant and his own group continued down the street, leaving them behind.

* * *

Closing in on the Warhawks' Coruscant base of operations, a black market armory, Obi-Wan, Cody and a handful of clone troopers followed the two merc legionnaires, Fitz and Patterson, to the back entrance, where they encountered three awaiting and armed Weequays, blocking their way.

"Hey!" The first Weequay pointed, and the other two joined him in a line of fire. He quickly grabbed the Commander and leaped into cover, same as the mercs, while only a few clones didn't get out of the way in time, and were shot down.

Behind bunker, Obi-Wan kept his head low as the small explosions of blasterfire over head, it almost made him go deaf. "Cody," he called to the Commander, whom wore a support strap for his broken arm, "we need to regroup with our other six troopers and rush them. We'll have to hurry."

"Why? Ah'm pretty sure they can't get us whiles we behind cover," commented Fitz, just as a blast flew over head and pierced his brim hat off his head. It landed on the ground with a hole right through its cranium, but fortunately it didn't kill him - although it didn't mean he wasn't disappointed of what happened. "Ah man! That was muh favorite hat!"

"Relax, I'm sure you've gotta spare someone back on the ship," Patterson told him, and then turned to Obi-Wan, "Do you really think running out at them is gonna work? We'll probably get show down if we as much stand up."

"I know what I'm doing, Miss Patterson," he replied. He stopped as he heard the sound of a screaming, as if someone was in pain. They all peeked up to find a Weequay, his right wrist was missing, blown completely off.

They watched as a lance flew out of nowhere and pieced a second adversary to the wall, his body went instantly limp, and the two remaining spun around to find a man - a Mandalorian - standing before them. The still armed Warhawk tried to raise his gun but was stopped in a minute as a vibrowhip snatched around his throat, a weapon held by the Mando, and with a good yank the alien's head was ripped right off his shoulders.

With only the disarmed Weequay left, whom was now backing up, the Mandalorian killer withdrew his whip and marched towards him, vibroblades extracting from his wrists. The Warhawk run out of sight behind the building with the assailant following him, and only their shadows from the other side were seen as they all watched a display of one figure picked up by the other, lifted in the air, stabbed, and to a slight nausea feeling, the assailant ripped off the man's head, dropping the remains to the ground.

"That was... interesting," Obi-Wan commented, feeling slightly sick to his stomach as he watched Mando's shadow disappear. Never had he seen such a kill so brutal.

"Naw, that was Fray, toughest guy you'll ever - you don't wanna mess with him," Fitz told him, leaping out from behind the bunker and headed to the door. He fiddled with the knob but it didn't budge to any avail. "Dang it! Door's locked. Now what?"

"Relax Fitz," Patterson began, "I've got an idea... can I see your launcher?"

* * *

**...**


End file.
